


the dead never stop walking

by torigates



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sabriel,” he said again. “You’re alive!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the dead never stop walking

  
“Sabriel,” he said again. “You’re alive!”

“Yes,” said Sabriel, with some surprise. “I am.”

He looked like he wanted to pull her into his arms, reassure himself that she really was alive, that she really was here, but his leg was still bent at an awkward angle.

She pulled herself up on her elbows and looked around. The once familiar site of Wyverly College was in ruins. She could still feel the presence of death all around her. Those who had lost their lives trying to help her, trying to protect her, and those who had been long dead, brought forth to help with Kerrigor’s attack on Life and the living.

They had survived. Sabriel was tempted to think that they had won, that they had defeated Kerrigor and that they had accomplished what they had set out to do, but the destruction was heavy and thick around her, and there was so much that still had to be done.

Starting with Touchstone’s leg.

She sat up further, and crawled across the rubble strewn floor to sit next to him. He put his hands on her shoulders and arms, as if he still needed convincing that she was really there. She managed to smile at him, as she took his hands into her own.

“You’re hurt,” she said.

He tried to wave her off as if it was nothing, but he shifted and it put his weight on his broken leg. He winced in pain.

“Don’t,” she said. She placed her hands lightly on his broken leg, and felt for the Charter. It was easier now, without the presence of Free Magic, and the things that had once been Mogget and Kerrigor. The Charter stretched out all around her, comforting and overwhelming in its familiarity. Sabriel was still exhausted from the past day, the past weeks. It was hard to believe she had been here, in this school as a student not three weeks ago. She barely recognized that self anymore. She struggled with the spell for a long moment, more sweat pouring off her and mixing with the dirt and grime she had accumulated. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt clean, though it must have been only days earlier at the Inn.

Frustrated, she pushed all those thoughts out of mind, focusing only on the Charter, and the marks for healing and binding. She fumbled with the spell for a long moment, before finally getting it to stick. It was a sloppy, incomplete job, and Touchstone would need someone else to look at his leg. It was just another way she was showing her ignorance and lack of skill.

He gripped her wrists, and she was forced to look at him. His eyes were grey and clear, and she noticed that some of the earlier pain had gone from them. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “You’re exhausted.”

She knew that he would have sat there with a broken leg all night, all week in most likelihood, just to spare her. _I love you_ , he had said. _I hope you don’t mind_. She hadn’t minded, and at the time she rather thought she loved him back. She still thought that, though it was difficult to know her own feelings when she knew so little else about the world. The only thing she felt sure of was Touchstone. She felt sure that he would help her no matter what, protect her, take care of her. She found she wanted those things. She wanted to take care of him too.

“You were hurt,” she said instead of expressing all that. There would be time later, when there weren’t pressing needs on their time and concentration.

She pulled herself to her feet, and held out her hand for Touchstone. He gripped it, and shakily got to his feet. “Can you walk?” she asked.

He seemed to consider the question, testing the leg with some, then all of his weight. His knee buckled, and she reached out quickly to steady him, but he shook her off. “I can manage,” he said. “It hurts, but it’s not as bad as it might be.”

She watched him wearily. She knew he’d say that, even if his leg was still broken. He attempted another step, and this time his leg held. He was limping, but managing to stay upright. For now, that was the best they could hope for.

She looked around. The Army Garrison was in shambles, though she could see some soldiers directing others, trying to regain some kind of order. One group was already moving the bodies of those fallen to the side with the remaining wall. She knew she would have to lay all their spirits to rest. The door to Death was still jarred open, probably always would be in this spot after all it had seen, even as far from the wall as they were.

She remembered belated Abhorsen’s—her father’s—wind chimes would have to be spelled anew. The Army was going to have a lot of trouble explaining this to the bureaucrats down south. Sabriel found she didn’t much care. Her life wasn’t here anymore. She belonged in the Old Kingdom, and there was so much that would have to be done.

She saw Ellimere’s body lying on the floor, and she walked over. She wanted desperately to perform the last rites, and send her friend safely on her way past the final gate, but she knew that was not how things were done in Ancelstierre. Ellimere’s parents would have to be called, all this would somehow have to be explained to them, if it ever could be. “Go quickly, and don’t look back,” she whispered.

She felt Touchstone’s presence a moment before he placed a firm and reassuring hand on her shoulder. She allowed herself to lean back into his touch, slightly. “Did you know her?” he asked.

“She was one of my closest friends,” she said.

His grip tightened. “I’m sorry.”

She turned to face him. “Me too.”

They stared at each other a long moment. When Sabriel finally broke his gaze, she turned to look at the destruction all around her. “We’ll have to help them here,” she said. “Before we go back to the Old Kingdom.”

He nodded. She watched emotions flicker across his face, relief and worry, before finally settling on determination. There was a lot to be done.

They worked hard for hours. Sabriel was bone weary, and more exhausted than she had ever been in her life. She saw that same fatigued look on the faces of those around her, but they finally managed to get the college in some order. There weren’t any more bodies about, though the wall was still completely destroyed, and there was rocks and debris everywhere.

Most of the soldiers packed up the remaining trucks. They started now without a hitch, and she felt so far away from magic, from the wall, from Death, for a moment, but it was all still around her. The field Commander wanted her to return to the Wall with them immediately, but she resisted, promising to return as soon as she could. There was the matter of the wind flutes to be dealt with, and she wanted to take care of that quickly. Before more trouble could rise at the border.

She climbed the stairs to the North Tower, the journey seeming harder, and causing more dread than it should have. She did not want to face Mrs. Umbrade. She didn’t want to face any of this.

In the end, arrangements were made for Sabriel and Touchstone to stay the night. Sabriel hovered in the room, as Mrs. Umbrade made the call to Ellimere’s parents. It was awful.

Touchstone was waiting for her, in the small dorm room the school had provided. Sabriel could tell the headmistress did not want one of her students to share a room with a man, but there was nothing to be done.

She sat on the small bed, and he sat next to her. It was finally quiet around them, though she did not feel peace.

“So many dead,” she said. “Because of me.”

He reached out and touched her wrist. Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap, fingers intertwined, her knuckles turned white from the pressure of her grip. His fingers stroked gently and the sensitive skin on her wrist, and she loosened her grip. He took one of her hands into his own lap, and drew a line with his finger across her palm, imitating the gesture he had done only hours earlier in the truck. The last time it had seemed to indicate a finality, now it seemed to stretch on.

“So many will live,” he said.

She looked over at him. He had stubble growing along his jaw line and over his cheeks. His face was dirty, and he looked so tired. As tired as Sabriel felt.

The Clayr had named him as king.

“Will you stay?” she asked. His eyes searched her face, and Sabriel herself was not sure if her question was meant to indicate him staying with her that night, or always. She just knew she wanted him close.

“Yes,” he said.

She lay back down on the bed, neither of them bothering to remove their sweat and bloodstained clothes. He held out his arm, and she pressed herself against his body, clinging to his warmth, his life.

She slept soundly.

The next day, Sabriel felt as if some of her weariness had been lifted. She healed Touchstone’s leg; the way his shoulders sagged with relief told her how much pain he had really been in.

She packed the few things of her old life she wanted to take with her, and walked around the school, touching the walls and furniture, trying to remember everything of her life there. It had been a happy life. A good life. She may not have been as prepared for the journey ahead of her as she could have been growing up in the Old Kingdom, but she understood now why her father had sent her here. To protect her, yes, but also to give her a sense of freedom and innocence she never could have had otherwise. It was hard to leave that now, but she knew she no longer belonged. She said goodbye to her friends. They looked as if they didn’t recognize her. They probably didn’t, she thought. So much had changed.

Mrs. Umbrade arranged to give them a ride to the Wall. Sabriel was grateful, but she thought the headmistress was doing it more to get them away than to be kind. It didn’t matter anymore. She was leaving, and unlikely to return.

She stood outside the building, taking one last look. The sun was shining, and besides the rubble that lay at their feet, she might never had known the Dead had been there. Touchstone was a steady presence by her shoulder.

“Ready?” he asked.

Sabriel nodded, and they set out. The journey ahead of them was a long one. The challenges they were about to face would not be easier than the ones they had just overcome. The Old Kingdom was sinking day by day into chaos, and they would have to stop it. Restore the Charter, restore the monarchy.

She wasn’t sure how they would do it, except that they would. Together.

The last page of _The Book of the Dead_ flashed before her eyes. _Does the Walker choose the Path, or the Path the Walker?_ She had never understood those words before, and she knew there was still much she did not understand, but she knew now this was the path chosen for her. She and Touchstone would restore the Great Charters, and bring the Old Kingdom out of the depths to which it had fallen. She might be ignorant and young, but she wasn’t alone, and that counted for something. It counted for a lot.

She smiled at him and reached out for his hand. “Yes,” she said. 


End file.
